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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213793">At Last, I've Been Given Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnbear/pseuds/Saturnbear'>Saturnbear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But I apologise for none of it, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I'm a strong believer in the inherent tenderness of cooking soup, I'm here to deliver rambling poetic fluff and damnit I'll do so!!, Jon feels some internal peace because he deserves it, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist centric, M/M, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), brief mention of smoking, i wrote this at 12am</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:22:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnbear/pseuds/Saturnbear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon finds that, at last, he finally has the time to rest.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At Last, I've Been Given Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Writing?? who?? I'm only acquainted with rambling for 700 words &lt;3</p><p>Shout out to the night vale nation discord I love y'allll</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon had recently found himself taking small moments to appreciate the flame of his lighter. For years turning it on had been a quick action for the sole purpose of lighting a cigarette. Yet in recent months, seemingly, something had changed. And in recent days, he had countless spare moments to waste. He had all the time in the world. And to spend a few extra seconds witnessing the way the flickering light bounced off of worn metal, and danced against his scarred skin, it was a luxury he could at last afford. </p><p>These moments of thoughtless contemplation were a small variation in the routine he'd begun building. They always ended with the same lowering of his hand into the candle's jar, and waiting for the wick to light.</p><p>Jon set the jar back upon the coffee table as gently as one could. The first wisps of smoke began to dance up from the fire, bringing the slightest scent of artificial pine along with them. Even the flame seemed to dance slow and gentle.</p><p>Jon stood in the cabin's living room, his breathing long and deep. He couldn't remember when he last had nothing to do. No obligations to uphold, no horrors to dwell upon. He knew if he digged enough, he could find something to fuss over. There was always something. But this once, in this rare, rare moment, Jon was content in not pursuing that desire.</p><p>Jon turned and sat on the sofa, aware of the gradually growing pine scent seeping into the air. He sunk into the firm cushions, pulling the cardigan tighter around his shoulders. The air had grown warm with the swirling smells of pine, dust, and Martin, numbing Jon's worries even further.</p><p>To say Jon was happy wouldn't properly explain his state. He'd certainly felt happy recently. He was feeling far from negative. But happy was something that asked for attention. Something held close to your chest as you skip along. Something to treasure, but not something to be surprised at. </p><p>No, happy wouldn't be correct. Jon felt <i>restful</i>. For the first time in years he felt as if the break he'd been taking was justified. That he didn't have to turn his gaze towards a looming return of danger. He'd been given time to rest. And that was, beneath his muffled stream of thoughts, surprising.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The front door creaked loudly when it opened.</p><p>"Jon?" Martin called. </p><p>"Martin."</p><p>"Certainly smells nicer in here." Martin said, dropping his bags onto the kitchen's limited counter. </p><p>"Lit the candle you bought." Jon answered, only sinking further into his little spot on the sofa.</p><p>"Yep- that'd explain it." Martin scoffed, rummaging through the bags, beginning to unload.</p><p>Jon turned his head to look at Martin, who seemed as gleeful and relaxed as he had ever been in recent days.</p><p>"Care to share the rewards of your travel?" Jon asked. Martin smiled.</p><p>"Mostly canned stuff to stash away. Got some soups, didn't know what you'd like so I got a handful."</p><p>"I certainly appreciate it."</p><p>"Also – I managed to pick up some bread!" Martin unwrapped the baguette cautiously. "I was thinking we could have it with some of the soup tonight?"</p><p>Jon smiled.</p><p>"That sounds lovely, Martin."</p><p>~~~</p><p>Silence could be deeply comforting, Jon had known this for years. And the warm silence that blanketed the cabin in this moment had to have been one of the most comfortable quiets he'd experienced. </p><p>Martin stood in the small kitchen, thoughtfully stirring at the soup heating on the stove. </p><p>Jon sat, watching Martin and breathing in the intense domesticity. Being able to hear Martin's soft humming lulled him near sleep. Jon sat in his loose thoughts, content with his act of living. Content with his ability to live to see a day in which Martin sat across from him with a warm meal and a stare he didn't try to hide the admiration from.</p><p>Days felt longer recently. Jon was given all the time in the world to linger on the most minor feelings. He held the warm dish in his hands, experiencing each of the sensations it offered at his own pace.</p><p>He'd been given an endless number of small moments. Of mundane experiences he finally had the room in his head to think of. A stream of days to spend alongside Martin.</p><p>Jonathan Sims could rest for the time being. And this once, alongside Martin, experiencing the intricacies of life was a luxury he could afford.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You see I CALL this a fic but really im just a Jon kinnie longing for a break from work.. oh to be rushed off to a safehouse with my loving partner and be free from my academic workload...</p><p>Also comments are appreciated like woah!! Ty for reading</p></blockquote></div></div>
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